Small World
by a perfectly healthy clown
Summary: They don't know where they're going. (Sequel to "Star Girl")


Cole is sucking on a lollipop. His mouth is purple. "What are you going to do?"

Solas chips nail polish off his thumb. "I don't know."

* * *

Dorian is literally vibrating with excitement. "Well, you _have_ to do _something_!" He's trying to whisper, but he's excited, and it's impossible to whisper when excited. Dorian shoves a book onto the shelf, but it falls to the floor. It makes a few students' heads turn.

Solas looks down at it. It's about Henry VIII. "I know."

* * *

Sera won't raise her head from her cell phone. "You _are_ doing something, right? This is good, yeah? Does this mean you're coming back to teach and stuff?" She's texting now, her thumbs like lightning over the keyboard.

Solas begins to smile. "I suppose so, yes."

* * *

Ellana is painting a rather large orange penis on the inside of his forearm. "I'm so proud of you."

Solas curls his fingers and watches the stars along her temples. "I would say the same, but you are currently acting like a child."

* * *

 _What did you do when you got the news_?

 _I don't remember that well_. _I was young_. _I think my parents got me ice cream_.

* * *

 _I don't know what to do_.

 _do you want me to plan something for you_? _no_ , _don't say anything_. _i will_. _no questions asked_. _you'll love it_. _drinking_? _no_ , _you hate drinking_.

* * *

 _Do you have any advice_?

 _mr pavus said he was going 2 take u somewhere it doesnt matter i dont think i would be able 2 go cassandra still wants 2 drive me places she doesnt_ " _trust me yet_ " _what the Fuck does that mean_? _i havent touched a single drug in like maybe 3 weeks_

* * *

 _What about you_?

 _I used up all your paint drawing that cock on your face last night_.

* * *

Cole is preparing a drink for a customer. Solas is leaning against the counter, counting the different samples of sugar packets. "I already know Mr. Pavus is going to make me drive," Cole says, scribbling a name onto an empty cup. "I don't mind driving, but I don't want to drive."

"Blueberry muffin, please," Solas says, pointing.

* * *

Dorian is trying to unfreeze his computer. "I have a solid plan forming in my head. You're going to _love_ it. Do you think Cole would mind driving?"

Solas presses his lips together. "You'll have to ask him."

* * *

Sera is about to tear out her hair. "That's no fair! I want to come. I'm going to come. I gotta. I don't care about Cassandra. She can, she can shove me in a jail cell for, like, a month. I don't care. I'm going with you."

Solas gives her a look. "No."

* * *

Ellana is twisting off caps to new paint bottles. She's careful not to spill paint anywhere. "Don't go where I can't follow."

Solas dips his fingers in blue paint, runs it along her lips. "Shut up."

* * *

It's a Thursday morning when Solas gets the good news, and it's a Thursday afternoon when all his friends find out. He gets texts, phone calls, and even congratulatory private messages from his online friends. Cole is driving him back home, and Solas can't even bring himself to say it. It keeps playing over and over in his head, echoing as if off vacant walls, and it's on the tip of his tongue, but it can't come out. He feels like he's going to throw up, but it'll be a good throw up, if there ever was one.

It's when Cole is trying to drive through an intersection when Solas finally says it. "Remission." He's whispered it, low, like it's a secret no one can hear, but everybody knows. Everybody knows, and everybody has a louder voice than him.

Cole stares at him for the longest time with his wide eyes and blank expression. He turns back around. "I felt like that, too."

* * *

Dorian is the main advocate of Solas having to do something. Dorian is going to plan it, though. He has _such_ a _fantastic_ idea, and don't you dare give me that look, Solas, I have it under control, it'll be fun.

"Fun," Ellana snorts, screwing back on the lid to her nail polish. "From what I hear from Mahanon, you and Dorian have two totally different definitions for 'fun'."

Solas examines his nails. "Maybe it will be fun," he says thoughtfully, and Ellana reiterates this back to him.

"'It'll be fun,' he says," Ellana muses, standing from the sofa. She goes into the kitchenette. "'Dorian is my best friend, and he totally understands what I like to do for _fun_ ,' he says." Her voice is light, playful. She's mocking him. She's going to paint a rude expression on his face tonight.

* * *

"He suggested drinking," Solas says, resting against the sofa cushions. He props his feet on Ellana's shoulder, ankles crossing and toes popping in her ear. "He knows I don't like drinking."

"'It'll be fun,' he says," Ellana mutters, not even holding back her roar of a laugh.

* * *

Dorian gives Solas his second suggestion over text. It's late, and Solas is asleep. His head is buried underneath two pillows. Ellana grabs Solas' phone, shoves it into his armpit. "You have a text." She's groggy, on the edge of sleep.

Solas swats away her hand. "You read it."

"Passcode."

Solas tells her. It's her birthday. Ellana pinches his earlobe. "Wanker." Gracelessly, she flops onto her stomach, half on Solas and half on the bed. She's warm. Solas absently scoots in closer, mumbling someone incoherent. Ellana pays him no mind. She's still reading over the text. It appears to be a rather long one.

Solas raises an elbow, poking her in the side. "You're quiet."

"Dorian wants to take you on a road trip. He said Cole's driving."

Solas begins to laugh, and Ellana has to stuff a pillow in his face before he can quiet.

* * *

Cole is ripping up straw wrappers. "I don't _want_ to drive. I told him that."

* * *

Dorian won't stop spinning in his chair. "You don't have to tell me, Solas; I already know it's an amazing idea."

* * *

Sera won't even look at Solas. "Your face is putting me off."

* * *

Ellana twists Solas' nipple to get his attention. "Stop reading. I have an idea."

* * *

It's Friday morning when Dorian finds out. The original plan was to leave on Thursday evening, but Dorian had figured Solas was too busy doing _whatever_ to start their weekend trip that early. Dorian is mistaken, though.

It's Friday morning when Dorian finds out. It's Friday morning when he stops by Solas' apartment unit and uses the spare key to invite himself in. It's Friday morning when he sends Cole and Sera the same text.

 _you're not going to believe me_ , _but they left without us_.

* * *

They're driving down the highway. The windows are down, and the sun is about to set. Solas is in the passenger seat, munching on crackers. Ellana has sunglasses on her face that makes her look like an insect. She's singing along to the radio, swaying in her seat, bouncing, laughing.

They don't know where they're going.

* * *

Their first stop is to a gas station. While Ellana fills her car, Solas slides inside the convenience store. He comes out with arms full of candy. Ellana stares at him, narrowed eyes behind her large sunglasses, but Solas smiles. He unwraps a chocolate bar. "Do not give me that look," he says. "You would have done the very same." She continues giving him That Look, but then they're laughing.

She eats a peanut butter cup as she drives with no hands. She's rather good at that.

* * *

They drive until it's dark. They find a rest area and park their car. The backseat has a white sheet spread across it. It has small blood stains along the fabric, but Solas doesn't ask about them. It isn't cold, but he still makes her get out of the car and dig out a pair of socks from the trunk. He watches her from inside the car, careful, quiet. No one else is around.

Ellana tosses the socks at his face. She removes her shirt. She isn't wearing a bra. He pulls on the socks. "Where to first?" he asks, his voice unwelcome in the quiet of her car. He continues to talk despite this. "Are you copying Dorian's plans exactly, or do you have something else on your mind?"

She takes his head between her hands, pulls him in for a kiss to his forehead. She's quiet, doesn't say another word for the rest of the night. He joins her in silence, allowing her fingertips to dance along the freckled skin on his back.

* * *

They have breakfast at a nearby café. It's different here than the one back at home. Solas is expecting Cole behind the counter, but he isn't there to stare Solas down and talk to him about history homework and how to get rid of Sera. Solas orders coffee and some sandwiches and sits at a table with Ellana. She has her phone plugged into the wall, looking at a map on the screen. She sips at the coffee when Solas passes it over. "Thanks. Would you like to stick to the country or go through cities?"

Solas tears his sandwich in two. "Is there something preventing us from going to both?"

"Well, no. I was just asking." Ellana picks up her coffee again, resting the lid against her bottom lip. She's thinking, setting down the cup. "I had my eye on a museum…?" Solas blinks. "An _art_ museum," she quickly adds.

Solas blinks again. "I do rather like art."

Ellana grabs a handful of sugar packets to her right and tosses them at Solas' head. She snorts when she laughs.

* * *

They visit an art museum. Every time Solas takes a step away from Ellana, to inspect a work more closely, she slides past him and yanks his knit cap over his eyes. She wants him to take it off. "Take it off," she says.

"We're in public," Solas remarks, and fixes his hat. Ellana smashes it back down and gives his cheek a kiss.

He likes Munch. She likes Gentileschi.

* * *

She thinks she put too much butter on their popcorn. "I don't see it as a problem. Do you?" She sucks on her thumb.

To answer her question, Solas stuffs his face. She rolls her eyes and snorts some more. A bird passes by their feet, tilting its small head and looking at them with its beady eyes. "No popcorn," he says, and she repeats it under her breath, almost as if she has to restrain herself.

"No popcorn. No popcorn."

The bird flutters its wings.

* * *

The sun is setting when Solas gets a text from Dorian. Ellana is driving, so Solas reads the message aloud. "Dorian wants to know if we're having fun."

"Send him a selfie."

"I am not sending him a selfie." Solas doesn't know what to tell him in return. _Yes_ , _we're having fun_. _Thanks for the idea_! _Wish you were here_! Dorian would be furious. Solas decides to send him that.

"A selfie," Ellana says again. She looks at him with her bug-eyed sunglasses. "Send him a selfie this instant, Solas." She pops her finger in her mouth and sticks it in his ear. As she is wetting her finger, Solas is in the process of replying to Dorian. When Ellana shoves her finger in his ear, he sends an incomplete, auto-corrected message. _Yes_ , _wer'e halving duck_. It makes Ellana laugh. "I had no idea we're having duck, Solas. You should have told me. I would have cleaned up a bit."

Solas sends Dorian a picture of Ellana, tongue sticking out, looking absolutely alien-like with her sunglasses and messy hair. "Oh," Solas chuckles, "he thinks you look positively monstrous."

Ellana snivels.

* * *

It's night time. They're still driving. Solas has a small flashlight stuck in his mouth, aiming it at the notebook in his lap. He's sketching Ellana. He's drawing her with antennas. "I had no idea you liked having phallic-like objects in your mouth, Solas." Ellana doesn't sound tired, as the outside light would suggest. She's taking small portions from an energy drink. She had offered some to Solas, but Solas doesn't like the way they make his heart race in his chest.

"My heart only races for you," he had said, and she had to pull the car off the road in order to make his face sticky with her lip-glossed kisses.

Solas removes the flashlight from his mouth. "Only sometimes." He breaks the lead on his pencil.

That sets her back. She focuses on her driving for a moment, then glances at Solas, from the corner of her eye. Her lips quiver, trying to produce speech with no true train of thought in mind. Her brows furrow, and before she can form a question, Solas says, "Yes," and turns to her. "I am." He ducks down, grabbing a pen this time.

Ellana curves her fingers around the steering wheel. "Me, too."

* * *

Ellana's hair is still damp from the shower when she asks Solas to braid her hair. "Please?" Her eyes are wide, and she sticks out her bottom lip. Solas is putty in her hands. They sit in the back seat, Ellana in front of Solas, on top of that white sheet. It's wrinkled now, often staining their cheeks with its ceases when they sleep.

Solas runs his fingers through her hair, stroking, feeling. "Do you feel cleaner?" He begins braiding her hair.

"Yeah," she says quietly. She opens up a bag of M&M's and pops some in her mouth. "I could have went a couple more days, though, but _somebody_ wouldn't stop whining about how they needed to shave." She's mocking him, adopting a new tone of voice to drive her tease home.

He gives her ear a pinch. "You should be thankful I'm actually growing my hair back."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am. I can't wait to bury my nose in your pubes. I was just curious about the hair on your head." She chews on the chocolate, talks with her mouth full. "I've never seen you with hair."

They're quiet for a moment. Solas slides his fingers through her hair. It looks almost white from the light of the moon and a nearby street lamp. She grabs her phone from the floor. He returns to braiding her hair. "I have dark hair," Solas says. "And it… I would prefer to keep my head bare."

"I'm going to persuade you," Ellana sings. She turns around, pops a chocolate in Solas' mouth. He chews, content. She goes back to her phone. "We need to stop by a shopping mall, see the sights, the people." Solas finds a hair tie and wraps it around the hair too short to braid. "Maybe a department store, too. We're running low on… supplies."

Solas squeezes water from the ends of her hair. A smile touches the corners of his mouth. "How many condoms do we have?"

"A few." Solas is satisfied with "a few", but the tone of voice Ellana uses makes him think otherwise. "We can stop somewhere tomorrow." She shuts off her phone and puts it back on the floor. It's safest there. The bag of candy joins it. "What'd you do to my hair?" she asks accusingly. She reaches around to touch, to pat.

Solas watches her with mild amusement. "Fishtail braid." He works off his pants.

She narrows her eyes at him, then grabs a condom.

It's slow this time, like they're trying not to attract attention to their car. This rest area has other cars in its parking lot, but they've parked away from them. There are three other cars, parked side by side—presumably a family. Ellana's car is on the other end of the lot. It might be suspicious, but they hadn't put that much thought into it. Their spot is closest to the exit. That made sense enough when they selected it.

Solas has his thumb in his mouth, soaking it before dropping it between Ellana's legs. She's on top of him, a foot on the car floor, the other on the seat with them. She has her hands on Solas' chest as some form of anchor to keep her balanced. It's a tight fit, but this isn't the first time she's ridden him in this car. Solas traces circles over her clit with his thumb, almost in time with her movements. They have to adjust. They don't want the car to bounce.

Solas would suggest changing their position, but he very much likes having Ellana on top. Ellana likes being on top, too. She likes watching him squirm. He's squirming now, but for a very different reason. "I think a bobby pin is digging into my back."

Ellana stops moving in order to laugh at Solas. "Fucking idiot," she says, her laughter coming out like bells. They move. Ellana grabs the bobby pin and slides it into her hair. Solas doesn't know if it's just to keep it away from them, nor if it's currently serving a more practical purpose. He can't tell right now. Ellana is leaning over him, kissing, worrying his bottom lip with her teeth. Solas holds the back of her head and starts moving his thumb again. She slides against him, making it so Solas becomes a complete mess when he comes—well, more of a mess. He's already a mess.

Ellana begins to giggle again. She crawls up his body. "Your ears are the loveliest shade of pink. Eat me out."

He does, holding her firmly in place with his hands on her back. When she starts to shake, he knows he does his job. When she smacks her palm against the car window and grinds down on his tongue, he knows he does a more than brilliant job.

She lies on top of him for a moment, her own ear pink against his chest. "I want to do that to you," she says, still trying to catch her breath. "I looked it up. There's a sex shop before we reach the shopping centers." She runs her fingers up and down his side. "Your heart is racing. You've already caught your breath."

Solas discards the condom. It makes him feel better seeing other used condoms in the trash.

* * *

Ellana drops a bombshell on him in the morning. "You can drive us." She's already sitting in the passenger seat, her sunglasses on her face and her feet propped on the dashboard. "At least to the next gas station, right?"

Solas sits in the driver's seat for the longest time. His face is pale, and he has a death grip on the steering wheel. Solas has seen the map. He knows it's a straight shot, but he's still frightened. He's more frightened to drive than he was on his way to his first chemotherapy session.

Ellana has her sunglasses on the top of her head now. Her face is full-on motherly concern. "Solas, you don't have to, okay?"

He doesn't. To calm him down, Ellana babbles on and on about what she knows of elves. Solas chews a hole through his thumb, but he's smiling, and Ellana considers that progress.

* * *

They're the only ones at the gas station, but Ellana still drags Solas with her. "I need to talk to _someone_."

As she pumps gas, Solas leans against the side of the car. He watches her. "So, how's the weather?"

Ellana snorts. She makes him go inside to pay. "Get me some Oreos, too," she tells him.

Solas leaves the store with Oreos and chocolate milk. Another car has pulled in since he's been gone, and Ellana is trying to chat with the man currently filling his car at the station neighboring hers. The man is tall, brown, and has a look of disinterest on his face. He wants to be left alone, but Ellana is still trying to engage. "So, how's the weather?" Solas hears her asking.

"Fine," the man responds. His voice is deep and disinterested. If Ellana couldn't tell by the expression on his face, she could certainly tell now.

Regardless, she continues to talk. "Fine, yeah? That's what I told my friend here"—she points at Solas—"but he's _still_ wearing a hat."

Solas gives her the Oreos. "You know why I'm wearing the hat."

She stares at him, and Solas understands. She turns back to the other man, who is now looking around for some sort of escape. He's wearing a knit cap, as well, but he has white hair poking from the top. His reason must be different from Solas'. "I like your hat," Ellana says.

"Thanks." And that's it.

Solas catches Ellana's eye. She's experiencing some sort of internal crisis. She's a nurse. She's typically a master at getting people to open up, but the man in front of them is stone cold and—

"You're very broody, aren't you?" Ellana pipes up, her eyes narrowing as she tries to assess the situation.

That, too, Solas supposes. He nudges Ellana with an elbow, giving her a disapproving look. He twists the lid from the milk and takes a drink.

Solas would have expected the man to break the disinterest scale and disappear in thin air, but he's actually beginning to smile. "I get that a lot," he says. He seems cheerful, but his tone doesn't change. Solas stares at him, trying to pinpoint what's going on behind the dark eyes and hard features.

Ellana likes relying on verbal communication. "What's your name?" She's holding onto the package of Oreos as if they are a good-luck charm.

"Fenris."

"Fenris," Ellana says in amazement.

"It means 'little wolf'," Fenris says, shoving the gas nozzle back into its pump. He digs out his wallet.

"Little wolf, huh? My friend here is the Dread Wolf." Ellana nudges Solas this time, more of a joking gesture rather than scolding, like Solas had given prior. For making a comment like that, Solas wants to nudge her in the side again. He thinks it's embarrassing, mentioning something like that to a stranger, but Fenris is staring at them like he _knows_. He chews on the inside of his cheek.

Then, cautiously, "Do you two play?"

Solas is relieved. He takes another drink from his chocolate milk. "Of course we play," Ellana says. "I'm one of the Inquisitors." She says this proudly.

Fenris looks at her like he doesn't care. "Interesting." He leaves, cash in hand. Ellana frowns, and Solas snorts. He gets an elbow in the ribs.

"You're an ass."

"Give me an Oreo." He points at the cookies. She rips it open and hands over one. Solas chews. "Are you going to try to talk to him some more?"

Ellana is standing there, Oreos bag still open. "Yes."

"I'm sure he would appreciate having another friend." Solas gets in the car. He fiddles with the radio.

Fenris has a Twix bar hanging from his mouth when he heads back to his car. Ellana tries to strike up another conversation with him, but she only gets grunts and hums in response. She tries to offer a cookie to Fenris, but he says, "No, I hate chocolate," and drives off in his car. Ellana is confused, and Solas can't stop laughing.

* * *

Solas had felt more embarrassed talking about online gaming in public than walking into a sex shop with Ellana. He thinks it strange, but he doesn't dwell on it. Ellana can't stop sniggering behind her hand, pointing at the dildos, at the handcuffs, at the dolls. "You want a blow-up doll, don't you? No, not one of those cheap things. You want a sex robot."

"You got me."

Ellana picks out a cock they both agree on. In the car, they sit there and laugh for an indistinguishable amount of time.

* * *

Ellana drives them to a department store. "We just need condoms. You can get them, can't you?"

Solas can. Ellana stays in the car, grabbing her phone. "I'll find us someplace to eat."

Solas meets their new friend standing in front of the condoms. Fenris isn't fazed. "Small world," he drawls. He looks around, over Solas' shoulder. "Is your… pal not here?"

"In the car." Solas grabs a box. "I hope I'm assuming correctly when I ask where your pal is."

Fenris smiles. "They're here. They probably wouldn't want to meet you."

"Charming." Solas' gaze drifts to the shelf next to the condoms, to the lubricants. He narrows his eyes at them.

Fenris raises a hand, pointing. He has intricate tattoos along his arms. They're white—a fascinating contrast against his dark skin. "Get that. Personal recommendation." Fenris takes a tube to prove his point, then grabs a box of condoms. "Have a blessed day." He leaves Solas. Turning his head, Solas studies the lubricant for a bit, and then a bit more after that. He buys it.

* * *

They eat at a food court, in a shopping mall. Ellana is stabbing at Chinese food, and Solas is tucking about three cheeseburgers in his mouth. He hadn't been able to hold down any meat while he was sick, so he's enjoying it while it lasts.

Ellana pokes at her phone with her pinky finger, scrolling down the screen. She has a piece of chicken sticking out of her mouth. "Motel?" She chews and swallows. "There's one close by."

Everything is close by to her. Solas taps her foot with the toe of his shoe. "That sounds good to me. Your ideas are always good."

Ellana taps Solas' foot. He thinks it's in acknowledgement of what he had said, but Ellana is trying to discreetly draw attention to something behind Solas' left ear. She's doing something funny with her eyes, almost like she's trying to start a signal fire without the use of her hands.

Solas laughs at her. "What?"

Ellana raises her eyebrows, eyes wide, and she begins to nod her head. She looks rather ridiculous. Solas continues to laugh. "Do you have a kink in your neck?"

Ellana stares at him. Solas grins and does the whole stretch-yawn-look-nonchalantly-behind-you skit. At first, he doesn't understand what Ellana had been trying to get him to look at, but then he sees Fenris across the food court. He's with someone. They're getting up from a table, Fenris slurping on an icee. Solas can't tell who it is Fenris is with, but they have dark hair. When they walk, Fenris' shoulder often comes in contact with theirs. It's playful. Solas can hear Fenris laugh. Fenris has a slouch to his posture. The person he's with and he could be the same height, but it's impossible to tell.

"He looks happy." Ellana tears open her fortune cookie.

Solas turns back around. "I ran into him earlier, in the store. He was buying condoms, too."

Ellana begins to laugh. Solas doesn't know what's so funny. "What's so funny?"

She shakes her head, hand coming to muffle the sounds of her laughter. Her eyes squint when she laughs, and the way the lighting hits her temples makes it seem like the stars there are sparkling. "It's nothing—just, oh, 'your life becomes more and more of an adventure'." It dons on Solas she's reading her fortune. She won't stop laughing. "It's like we're treasure hunters, Solas! Why aren't you laughing? This is _hilarious_!"

* * *

Ellana has conveniently hidden a CD in the music player, in her car. She swears she didn't know how it got there, but when Solas scans her with a narrowed expression, she becomes pink, and she tries to change the subject. Solas redirects her back to the disc. "What is it?"

" _Nothing_. You won't like it."

Solas presses play. Ellana is red now. When the music starts, Ellana is blue, almost as if she is trying to hold her breath.

Solas leans back in his seat, listening for a moment. He blinks. " _Rent_?" A pause. "This is _Rent_."

Ellana reverts back to a lively color. Solas turns up the volume.

They're singing together in only a matter of seconds.

* * *

Ellana has one hand on her cock and one hand on the back of Solas' neck. Her lips are against Solas' ear, mumbling lyrics from "Seasons of Love" while she moves against Solas. Solas is beneath her, ankles hooked around the backs of her thighs, arms around her torso. "Please, be quiet, don't sing," he's trying to tell her, but he can't form any sentences that don't have the words "faster", "harder," nor "fuck" in them.

They knock a dent in the wall.

* * *

The motel they're staying in isn't top of the line, but it isn't dirty, neither. It isn't a place someone would look twice at, but it's necessary, and the website Ellana had looked at had given it good ratings. It's cheap, too. Granted, money isn't that much of a factor while they're out here, but it's nice to save whenever possible. Ellana wants to stay here for a couple nights. "Oh, you know you want to," Ellana says, as she shoves Solas off the bed. "We need to fuck properly."

After they've fucked properly, Ellana wants to sleep properly. She's out like a light, snoring into the pillow and hogging most of the blanket. Solas slips outside.

The room they booked is on the second, and top, floor. Ellana had been excited about the makeshift balcony. She had hung over the edge, and then proceeded to tell Solas how she was afraid of heights. "Don't think about proposing to me at the top of a Ferris wheel. I'll vomit, and it wouldn't be the good kind of vomit."

There's a bench to Solas' right and a potted cactus to his left. He sits next to the cactus. He's careful not to prick himself.

A door opens down the walkway, and then Solas hears the scuffling of feet. It sounds like they're bare. The concrete flooring is smooth and fairly clean, so Solas thinks the person is okay for now. Solas has his legs stretched out, and he plans to move them when they go to pass Solas, but the person stops by Solas' legs, and they don't give the impression of moving anymore. The feet are indeed bare, and Solas wants to know who would have the impulse to stand over him, since it's late, and there are plenty of other places to stand.

When Solas raises his head, he finds himself making a half-smile and saying, "Small world."

Fenris is there. He's wearing black leggings and a purple band t-shirt. Solas doesn't know the band on it. Fenris waves around a cigarette packet he has in hand. "Was it lung?"

Solas blinks. "Excuse me?"

"It wasn't lung cancer, was it?"

"No."

"Good." Fenris lights a cigarette and walks toward the railing. He leans against it, facing Solas. The wind is blowing away from them, so whenever Fenris exhales, the smoke slides to the right, and nobody gets hurt. Fenris looks at him. "What was it, then?"

Solas blinks again. "Excuse me?"

Fenris rolls his eyes, turning on his heel. It's a fluid motion. He's hanging off the railing now, elbows resting. "The cancer. It wasn't lung. What was it, then?" He puffs out smoke.

"Oh. Leukemia."

Fenris makes a noise in his throat. Solas can't decide what it means. "One of my friends had that. He's better now, though, I think. What was it…? Five years, right? You're safe after five years?"

"The chance of relapse greatly lessens after you have been incident free for about five years, yes." Solas stands. He dusts himself off.

"He had it when he was a kid, so I think he's safe." Fenris doesn't ask Solas for confirmation. He sticks the cigarette between his lips. He shifts his weight from leg to leg. Solas thinks it looks as if Fenris is stretching his leg muscles as he is leaning against the railing, but Solas can't be for certain.

Solas moves next to Fenris. He makes sure it's on the side he won't get a face-full of smoke. "I know someone who had leukemia when he was a child."

Fenris gets that look he had when he was talking to Ellana at the gas station. "Interesting." Then, the look falters, and Fenris begins to look genuinely interested. "Is his name Cole?"

Solas glances at Fenris, a furrow in his brow, and starts to wonder if Fenris is actually a complete stranger at all. He hadn't looked familiar; his appearance hadn't set off bells for Solas, but here, right now, Fenris might know more about Solas and the people in his life than he himself knows. Solas doesn't hold his breath, though. "Yes, his name is Cole."

Fenris gets that look again. "Interesting." He places the cigarette between his lips, pushing himself from the railing. In another fluid motion, Fenris presses the bottom of his right foot against his left thigh, and then he stands there, mimicking the profile of a flamingo. His back is still slouched, however, but he looks steady, balanced.

Solas looks at Fenris' feet. The nails are black, but Solas doesn't think it's due to him painting them. He turns back ahead, looks over the edge. They are alone.

"Do you want to know how I knew?" Fenris asks. "Other than the no-hair thing."

"Enlighten me."

"I could tell by your face. You've gained weight, but it isn't in your face. You still look sick." Fenris knocks ashes off his cigarette. "My apologies if that came out… offensive."

Solas shakes his head. "No. No, I wasn't offended." He touches the railing, fingers curling.

"Good." Fenris shifts weight again. He presses his other foot to his other leg. The nails on that foot are blackened, too. Solas tries not to draw attention to himself, but Fenris catches his eye. He looks down, as well, almost loses balance. He wobbles on his foot for a bit, recovering in under three seconds. "I know," Fenris says. "They're… unappealing."

Solas snorts. "Well, that's not the word I would use to describe a foot."

"Do you do that often, then?" Fenris lowers his foot. He's standing properly now. "Describe feet?"

"No."

"Good. I thought I was talking to a podiatrist." Fenris visibly shivers and puts on a scowl. Solas doesn't ask.

"I am a professor."

Fenris snorts this time. "Of course you are. I hope they paid you when you were ill."

"I took a leave of absence." Solas watches Fenris raise the cigarette back to his mouth. He looks amused, and Solas doesn't know why. Again, he doesn't ask. "What do you do, then?"

Fenris doesn't answer for a long time. He appears to be mulling over something intently, as he is allowing his cigarette to burn without smoking it. Finally, he considers speech well again. "I work with the abused and the neglected. They are often children." Fenris chews on the inside of his cheek. "That is how I met Cole."

It's Solas' turn to mull this over. He hadn't known that about Cole. Although, Solas only knows Cole from the university and the coffee shop. He doesn't know anything besides that. "You're a psychiatrist, then. A therapist?"

Fenris smiles. "No."

Solas looks down. He thinks. "A counselor, then. Perhaps a social worker."

Fenris continues to smile. "Better."

"That doesn't explain why your feet are so… unappealing."

Fenris laughs. It's loud, deep. "No, it doesn't." He returns to his cigarette, taking the last few drags from it before tossing the end to the ground, grinding it into the concrete with the heel of his foot. Perhaps, Solas figures, _that_ is one of the reasons Fenris' feet look unappealing. Fenris scratches his shoulder. "I did ballet," he reveals. "As a child. I didn't like it. I like it now."

* * *

At their next stop, Ellana purchases a disposable camera. She tells Solas to take pictures, but doesn't say of what. He takes pictures of clouds, of deer they see as they drive, of—

"How do you encounter so many dogs? I would have seen these. I would have pet them!" Ellana flips through the pictures once they're developed. She begins to laugh. "We need a dog."

"Big dog."

Ellana smiles. "Yes, a big dog."

* * *

Ellana takes pictures on her phone. These pictures come out better, even the ones they take at night. They're at a park, and she's snapping photos of constellations Solas points out. She likes stars. Solas kisses her forehead.

* * *

They're at a bar. Ellana doesn't want to pay for drinks. "Follow my lead." She sits at the counter. Solas joins her. His stool has a lopsided leg. He rocks a bit, for fun, but then she takes his hands, and he has to stop. "Solas, I have something really important to ask you."

Solas thinks his heart isn't working right. He narrows his eyes, tries to figure out what's about to happen. Her face is blank. Solas is at a loss.

The bartender is watching them from the corner of their eye.

"I have something really important to ask you," Ellana repeats, her voice steady. "You have inspired and amazed me from the moment I met you. And you continue to do so. You are so beautiful." Ellana cracks a smile. "Take off that hat." She reaches up, pulling off the hat and giving Solas a loud smooch on his cheek. "I am so proud of you. You have one of the most"—she smiles again—"marvelous spirits I have ever seen. I care about you so much, Solas."

Solas thinks he might actually grow wings.

The bartender has their full attention now.

"I don't have a ring on me," Ellana says, and yes, Solas has actually grown wings. He's about to fly. He's flying. "But, Solas, will you—?"

Solas can't stop himself. He's launching off his stool and taking Ellana into his arms, kissing her face, her mouth, anywhere he can touch right now. She's laughing underneath him, her whole body shaking. Her hands are warm against his back, hugging him, holding him close.

There's a cheer somewhere. Two drinks are dropped on the counter in front of them. "On the house," the bartender says, and they smile and celebrate.

They have to tell the story of how they met many times tonight.

"I was his nurse. I never would have guessed chemotherapy would have been so romantic."

"I had cancer. I'm in remission. She has these stars on her temples. I fell in love with those first."

* * *

They're humming, stretched out in the backseat of her car. He's running his fingers through her hair, smooth, soft. She's prodding her nose against his throat, all smiles. "I can't believe that worked," she says.

Solas is still flying. "I do believe, when that time comes, I would like to take your last name."

Ellana takes his hand. She squeezes it. "Solas Lavellan, what a tit."

* * *

It's Thursday evening when they drive back to town. It's been two weeks. Ellana is groaning behind the wheel. "Solas, I'm tired. Why do we need to stop for coffee?"

Solas is drawing Ellana again. She has antlers this time. "Because."

Ellana stays in the car. Solas walks inside. He has only taken four steps before he is engulfed in a powerful, bone-crushing hug. "I thought you were gone."

Solas holds Cole, just as tight. "I'm right here."

* * *

They sleep. They dream. When they wake, Dorian is there, sitting on the bed. Ellana pulls the blanket over her head. Solas isn't surprised. "Good morning."

"It is a good morning, isn't it?" Dorian's eyes are narrowed. He doesn't look angry. He's up to something. "Leave," he says. "Come back tonight. Around seven or so." Then, "Please."

The look Dorian is giving them is suspicious, but Solas trusts him. "Okay."

* * *

Solas decides to go with Ellana as she gets her tattoos touched up. He tries to watch, but he can't. He's never going to get a tattoo.

* * *

Dorian invites people over. He has strung a "Welcome Home" sign across a wall, and he is currently trying to shove a piece of cake in Solas' mouth. "Eat it."

Solas gets his nose covered in icing. Ellana laughs at him. She's standing next to a carbon copy of herself, albeit a tad taller and male. He had introduced himself as "Hi, I'm Mahanon. I heard through the grapevine you're fucking my sister."

Cassandra is there. She's tipsy. She may or may not know about the joint Cole is currently rolling. Sera is sitting beside him, chanting, "Hurry, hurry, hurry."

Vivienne is looking over at them with a look of mild amusement. "How was your trip, darling? I'm so glad you're feeling better." She's sipping on some wine, as well. Dorian had provided the refreshments.

"It was fun," Solas says, and that's all he can really say. He looks over at Ellana, watching her acquire a can of silly string from Mahanon. She sprays it in Dorian's hair. Solas can't stop smiling. "I'm happy."


End file.
